Infectious
by MothyGrande
Summary: Albert Wesker survived the burning and continues working on Uroborus. He creates an evil he cannot handle anymore... No Romance, No Yaoi. Possible Higher Rating with later chapters.
1. Prologue - Spreading

**Infectious **

_Prologue:_

Spreading.

Half a year has passed. Albert Wesker sat in his office and stared outside the window. It was fall, it rained, and it seemed like this neverending rain was just fitting his mood perfectly. Through his dark glasses, no one wouldve guessed that the normally emotionless and cold man showed any emotions at all, but he actually did have a lot of emotions. Disappointment in its purest form. Uroborus, his creation, a Virus he sat on and worked on for ages, had failed bitterly, alongside with the clone he sent in, alongside with the team around him. That Excella would fall, was just expected. He actually just expected her to play along and be a good nurse to him. It was convenient to have a small alarm clock behind him who reminded him about his injections- but even she failed. Everyone failed him, even his very own clone. He was huffing in annoyance. This annoyance was lasting for half a year now. He had never been in a slump like this. It annoyed him, for it made him look like one of those nine-to-five human workers which have a motivational slump because of arriving „winter depressions." Idiotic. And the office, the office he was given by Excella, the former CEO of Tricell Africa, was just more or less a nice room with a lamp inside. Something normal, something he could at least pretend to have. Pretend to do something useful, pretend to have a normal job. He stared at the rain outside.

„How unfortunate", he growled, and turned back to his papers. He was trying to get something useful onto the paper. The viral structure of Uroborus was nearly perfected, but it seemed to lack stability. Much like the T-Virus, an infected person using the Uroborus Virus and surviving it, would need a refreshing of the dosage everyday. This somewhat huge lack of stability was nearly driving Albert crazy – it was so imperfect, an imperfect perfection, a misbirth of his own creation... How can a god create an imperfect creation!? He didnt want to be like the god many humans worship. A god creating something useless, something idiotic, and something so weak and imperfect like a human being. Basically, he was nothing else than creating something similar useless. Crazy! He was so angry with himself that he felt his blood boil. Angrily, he stared at the paper below him, grabbed it and tossed it into the next trash bin. How come he could've failed so badly? Not only that he needed to hide his presence now, no, hide his mere existance, because a slight hint of his very existance would lead into the BSAA being glued onto his ass again, no, not only this. He had to act completely incognito now to keep the illusion of Albert Wesker being dead and dust alive- how was he going to be incognito, when he needed someone who sponsored his next acts? The whole situation was driving him crazy inside, and he just stood up. „Fuck it." he muttered, a curseword which was nearly impossible to be heard by someone like him. He was standing up, looking at the structures of Uroborus again and again, thinking about how to eliminate Uroborus' flaws and limitations and make this virus even more contagious. How could he be able to make it more contagious... more dangerous... more fatal... more crucial... perfect? He was taking a deep breath.

„So, we have the contagiousness on the one side, and the stability on the other. It would make sense to increase incubationtime... in order to give the virus more ability to spread into the victims body..." He muttered to himself. He sat back down again, and started to scribble. Suddenly... it all made sense. With the scribbles, and the thought of a better world in his mind, a world where Albert Wesker was a god, he, who would choose who to live and who to die... where DNA was perfect, and being human was sin... with this thought in his mind, and the brilliancy of his intelligence, he was slowly creating something even more evil than Uroborus. A slow smirk appeared on his face, and it seemed that he got what he wanted. Finally. And, of course he did. Albert Wesker always got what he wanted. Albert Wesker was a god, after all. After five hours – it was 4:39 AM in the morning, Albert Wesker held his new creation in his hands. Uroborus 2.0 – the perfected version.

And outside, he could hear that the rain finally stopped.


	2. Chapter 1 - INCUBATION

**Chapter 1: **

_INCUBATION._

„The virus is stable. Incubation: One week." Albert noted, and looked at the being which was

screaming wildly in agony as the tentacles shot out of his arms, legs, throat. The tentacles seemed to feed on his blood and innards. „Hmh. Seems as is it is still mutating." he muttered, and kept noting, keep a watchful eye onto the subject of experimentation. It was actually not really looking like a human male anymore. Actually, it just looked like an octopus-mutant. The tentacles slapped against the equipment, the screams filled the room. The eyes almost buldged out, and it seemed that the pain it was going through was immense. The skin was bubbling like lava, and more and more tentacles shot out of his body, making him look disfigured more and more. Less human. More a monster. Albert didnt care about its pain, nor about its fate. As former human being, this very monster was doing the only useful thing it could: Serve him in his great matter, and make the world a better place by sacrificing itself for the sake of Uroborus 2.0. There is no other use for humans than being subjects to experimentations – because only a handful of humans truly mattered. And those who do matter will be carefully seperated from the useless by Uroborus itself. The tentacles kept slapping around, the lamps in the experimentation room crashed with force, and the chair inside was just ripped apart by the sheer force of the tentacles' wrath. Pain was making every being stronger by such a load, Albert thought. The poor being was just screaming, and then suddenly, it was bursting from the inside, blood splattered onto the whole experimentation room and the being, which was only having a few leftover human treats, was ripped apart by its own force coming from the inside. A pile of flesh was the only thing left. Object 1, you are dimissed. Albert huffed. What a mess. Always the same, and he really did not envy the people which had to clean the mess up. This was the third experiment he was making with Uroborus 2.0 – and all the tests were rightly positive for his eyes. With a light mood, he was making his notes, grabbing the few dosages of Uroborus 2.0 and slowly turned to the cleaning people which lazily seemed to lurk around the hallway. Albert looked at them from above.„Do your job." he muttered, and then was slowly gathering his information. Final phase. This is going to be fun. Lightly, he was walking through the facility towards his office, and

then slowly entered. His office was neatly clean, neatly organized and had absolutely no personal flair. No pictures, nothing. Some of the workers were plastering their offices with massive amounts of pictures of family and friends. Wesker refused to do so – it was not only none of anyones business, it was something … human. He sat back down, and turned to his papers. The information gathered was enough to get Uroborus 2.0 a testdrive.

This is going better than I thought. But wait...

Suddenly, he was looking at a paper. Object 2 was not fully examined. And it seemed that Object 2 did not fall from Uroborus 2.0. At least so he noted. How could he have overseen such a lovely coincidence? Not only that Object 2 was able to resist the Virus, no, it was even able to make Albert see what happens with someone with surperior DNA. Albert grinned widely. What a luck I have, he thought, and went over the paper again. He was looking into one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out the neatly taken notes from the other experimental objects he had tested Uroborus from. He compared the stats, and kept a close eye to Object 2.

Object 2.

Sex: Female.

Age: 20

Occupation: Student.

Infected: 9/21.

Breakout: 10/1

„Odd." he thought suddenly. The breakout was two days later than expected, and even more, the data about her was so small that he thought about a mistake in his data. Albert Wesker never made a mistake in archiving data, and if he did, he thought of becoming slowly senile. He was scanning the files over and over again. No mutation. No tentacles. Nothing. Only a few marks below her eyes, and the change of her eye color. Attracted by the odditiy of this happening, Albert couldnt stop reading over the file over and over again. Her symptoms were greatly different... So different that it made the inner researcher in him jump in delight. It was nearly a miracle that something like this would happen in one of his experiments. He could have both scenarios now, and the lovely fact that he was able to have both of those under control without the need of too much effort. Greatest results with minimal effort was something he barely experienced, but now, things seemed to have changed greatly. This object might be the base of what will be roaming earth after the big cleanup. With a triumphing smirk on his face, he looked one last time over the paper. He decided to pay the object a visit as soon as possible. But for now, he would rest. Rest for the final test drive.

A day later, facility 2, room 3. She laid on this bed which was only sporadically having a pillow.

She stared into the lamp above her which occassionally flickered. Fear stood in her eyes. She would never make it out alive. _This man. This man. This man. He is going to kill me. He is going to kill me. He is going to kill me. Over and over again. _And so, the poor girl kept staring, her thoughts circling about how wasted her life was, and how much time she had to live, how much time was left to spend, how much time she could see the lamp flickering above her. The injection hurt like fire. And what it was what he forced inside her, she didnt know. What it was which was slowly turning her into a monster, she didnt know. But she knew one thing: This man. This man, blonde, tall, with the sunglasses, was the devil in person. No one would come to save her. She was all alone, watched by five cameras, one in every corner, and a hidden one, watched by apparatuses which measured her every sign of life. She realized she was not a person anymore. She was an object. Object 2. How did she even get here?! She didn't know. She only remembered the way home from university. University. She was studying to be an engineer. She was good at what she did, one of the best in her year. Her father was not really a tolerant man. She should stay at home and wait for a husband to come by, while her mother was fully supporting her. Mom... Dad. Will I ever see them again? Her whole world was suddenly so far away. She was afraid she would never see sunlight again, never enjoy the cold night air, never hear her favorite music slowly dripping out of the headphones of her iPod, and that she would get out here in a body bag, thrown into the sea and never be seen again. And suddenly, everything was breaking apart into small pieces. She just remembered opening her eyes, being held down and having a needle forced into her skin, a massive weight on her arms, a man above her. She could only catch a glimpse of his eyes below those dark glasses. Blood red eyes staring at her, and a voice with light british accent telling her to be silent. _„He is going to... kill me."_ she whispered silently. Suddenly she heard steps. She shot up. Those steps seemed heavy, distant, and somewhat familiar. The steps of a male with certain weight, yet, strong and determined could even hear a breath, and leather moving along. He was coming. He was going to get her. He was going to force another needle into her skin. The devil approaching with silent steps of agony, every step of him bringing nothing but destruction and pain to those crossing his way. She was a little bit stunned. How could she hear him so from so far away? She was feeling that her body tensed. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, her attention was fully directed onto him. Like a zebra which was going to face a lion. Like prey. The door opened, and revealed the being she feared so much stood in the dimmed and flickering light of the lamp. Blonde hair, neatly combed back. Not a single strand of hair was out of place. Dark sunglasses covering his eyes. Thin lips, a very edgy, manly face with a clean shave, some well-placed wrinkles showing his age. A very muscular bodybuild, tall, and yet, he seemed cold as ice. Nothing was showing any hint of emotion from him. He looked like a wax figure. She tensed even more. „Good evening, Object 2." He greeted, only getting a dark glare from his subject of experimentation. She didnt seem to show any symptoms. Oddly enough. She got up. „My name Emma." she said darkly, and sat straight up, watching his every move. He was her enemy. Albert was a little bit stunned. She seemed like a nine-to-five human. He was even so nice to greet her...

„Your name," Albert began, „has no meaning in this facility. Your privacy, neither. You have no rights in here. That you have a name at all is actually a courtesy of mine, and, a matter of organisation – I dont want you to … get lost under the mass of objects here." he said dryly, only recieving a dry laughter from the opposite he was talking to. Why wouldnt she understand how gracious of him it was to even grant her a name? Humans, and their odd need of a name. „How gracious of you." she said darkly with a sarcastic undertone. An undertone Albert did not like. „So, I might just re-name you into „Asshole 1."... how about that, hm?" she asked. Albert was approaching her, not really impressed by her cocky remark, nor, he was caring about her calling him names. „Whatever suits your fancy, Object 2." He said, and suddenly, with a swift movement of superhuman speed, he stood infront of her, and forcefully threw her back onto the experimentation table. He opened her eyelids, and examined the change of eyecolor deeply. Black eyeball, yellow irisies, and the oddity of this eye seeming to rapidly move. She squirmed below him, squeaked because his massive arm was almost crushing her chest. A weak human woman was never going to be able to wiggle herself out of his grasp. He was examining the mark below her eyes. It had no defined shape – it more looked like a messed up tattooage made of a drunk tattooist. Odd. How very odd. Emma though was screaming. His weight, and the sheer force he used onto her to hold her down was too much. Her bones would break soon. But suddenly, she was feeling herself getting stronger, and something insdie her was slowly making her able to resisit. Mentally, she was only an inch away from wishing him to be dead, and she wanted to make him feel the same damn pain she was feeling, the same damn sting, the same damn burn. He is not going to break me. He is not going to kill me. He is not going to use me. I am not an object. I am Emma. I AM EMMA! She was screaming into his ears. Annoyed, he released his arm from her chest. Women always screeched like dying cats when they got a little pressure, and this was a bother to Albert, who enjoyed his peace and quiet so much. Having a girl screeching into his ears was not what hed call a pleasure – best it is, to shut her up. He let her go for a second. The relief was great – but then, Albert grabbed her throat, his massive hand holding her down. She was gawking, letting out a few gasps. Broken bones would be the smaller evil now. Now, she was choking. Instantly, she was grabbing his wrist with both of her hands in pure instinct. It was not pain relief anymore. It was survival. Albert didnt intend to kill her. He just wanted to make her shut up so he could examine the oddity of her mutations. She was wiggleing beneath him, slowly turning pale, and a single, bitter tear left her eyes. Albert just sighed. If shed just shut up. Now she would wetten and stain his clothes with her dirty tears. Suddenly, he felt the grip on his wrist intensifying. Her tears were got more and more, and the pressure onto his very bones was getting huge. He was not sure what happened, but he felt that it was getting dangerous. Dangerous!? To him?! How could she...

Crrrrrck.

The sound of breaking bones.

Before Albert could think, his wrist bones broke like glass beneath him. He was shocked, growled in pain, and wanted to pull his hand back – but he couldnt. He just couldnt. She was holding his hand, with both of hers, and pressed like no tomorrow. She was freeing herself from his grasp, entirely crushing his wrist with a terrible cracking sound. Albert forcefully released his grip off her, and her hands were leaving his wrist. Albert stared at his wrist in disbelief. Did she just break his wrist with her little, useless human hands? How unforuntate, how odd. He looked at the watch he carried around the said wrist. No, it was not time for another injection of the T-Virus yet. He was stable, at full strength, but this girl was able to break his wrist. He hadnt felt pain in a longer time, and was halfway amazed that someone could actually make him pull away, make actually feel him pain. The wrist would be healed within less than an hour. Yet, he was giving the girl a dark glare from beneath his sunglasses.

„You are quite strong, young lady." he said. „Are you in martial arts lessons?" he asked with low interest. It would just be a small courtesy to explain how in the whole world she was able to break his wrist. Emma was sitting, coughed terribly. She was breathing heavily. The relief of not having a massive man choking her was taking its toll on her. She was staring at him, and slowly got up. When she was standing, she revealed herself to him. Her arms and legs were also full of those odd, tattoo-like marks, and they seemed to move. Tentacles shimmering through her skin?

„My name … is Emma..." she repeated. Something inside her was boiling up, and this something inside her made her brave. „My name...is Emma..." she repeated, and Albert was more or less stunned for a second. So, she got mental? As expected. Humans are so idiotic, as soon as a little threat appears, they go crazy. She is just one of them... „I have heard what your name is, Object 2, I am not de..."

Albert couldnt finish. He was pressed into the next wall by a sheer force he had never felt before. Tentacles shot out of Emmas hands and had slammed Albert with a sheer bruatlity into the next wall that it left a massive hole inside. His sunglasses fell off his nose and landed with a clattering sound onto the cold stone was engulfed in those odd appendages, the pressure on his limbs getting more and more intense. What the fuck happened here! How come that she was so fast and strong all of a sudden?! How come she could break him, him, a god? He couldnt let that happen. Not one mere human shall convict him. He was peeling himself out of the wall, and ripped the tentacles apart with a single swift movement of his arms. She was instantly retreating the tentacles into her body, or more, they acted like they fled. Emma stared at her hands for a second. Se didnt know what happened, obviously. She was turning into a monster, wasnt she. She was mutating and those odd beings inside her were just abusing her as host! She was going to become a monster...

„What... what was tha..."

A thud.

She fell. The world blackened around her, and slowly, she lost consciousness. Albert had moved behind her and sent a well-placed hit into the nape of her neck. He was staring down on her, as she fell. He bend over, and picked his sunglasses up, examineing them for possible damage. It would be enough that she would make him need a complete new set of clothes since she dirtened his clothes with her dirty human tears, no, it would be such a bother to buy a new set of sunglasses as well. Luckily, there was only some small crumb of dirt on the inside of the glasses, which made him sigh a little bit in relief. He looked down to the girl.

„So, Uroborus didnt reject you." he said, and grinned. „How fortunate for you." he said, and stepped over her body. She was unconscious, and laid on the cold stone floor like a corpse. Albert opened the door to the experimentation room.

„You will live a little longer, Object 2."


End file.
